


Changing for a Fool

by strayMongrel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Draco Malfoy, Bottom Harry, Broom Maker Harry Potter, Draco's Birthday, Fluff, HP: EWE, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Top Draco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-03 03:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4084207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strayMongrel/pseuds/strayMongrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco and Harry have a pretty good relationship, but Draco can't help but think that Harry deserves better. However, Harry thinks that he and Draco are perfect, and he's hell-bent to prove it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Birthdays Mean New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in a long while, let alone post it. So let me know what you all think. Feel free to comment. If you want me to continue this, let me know!

“Draco.” A soft tenor voice roused the sleeping blonde. “Oh, Draco…” A hand pressed between his shoulder blades and slowly slid its way down his spine. The smell of warm syrup filled the room.

“Potter, I had a long night…” he grumbled, turning his head to look grumpily at the raven. He was greeted with bright green eyes and a smile on full lips.

“But I made you breakfast,” he pouted, nudging an oak tray closer. Pancakes piled up with steaming maple syrup and two slices of ham explained the warm smells. Harry whined at him when Draco made no reply. “Do you not know what day it is?”

“Yes, Harry, I do. And I don’t know why you are making such a big deal. It is the fifth of June, my birthday. Not very exciting.” He grabbed his pillow and hid his head. “Sorry, my darling,” he muttered.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy. Sit up right now.” Harry never used Draco’s full name unless he was really pissed with him. “Sit _up_.” He tugged the pillow of and threw it across the room. “Just eat and then you can go back to sleep. Please. You didn’t eat last night.” Harry’s anger seemed to dissipate into worry.

Of course Draco didn’t eat, and of course Harry noticed as well. He sighed and sat up, chuckling softly as Harry smiled. “Fine. I’ll eat your damn breakfast,” he teased. Draco let Harry push a plate of food into his hands, and he settled back against the headboard as they both fell into a companionable silence. The food filled Draco with warmth; Harry must have put a calming draught into the syrup—how insightful. After he cleaned the plate, Draco let Harry fuss over him more, even pulling the covers up over him.

“You can go back to sleep now, and I’ll just save your gifts for later. Is that alright?” Harry pressed a kiss to Draco’s forehead.

Draco just hummed in reply and settled back into sleep.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Draco rubbed his eyes, trying to fight off an oncoming headache. His birthday was tomorrow, and Harry would kill him if he wasn’t there that morning.

“Here late again, Malfoy? Trying to clear your family name by clocking in overtime?” Geoffrey Hooper drawled.

“Hooper, please, I’m finishing up a case report.” Draco was used to the remarks by now, but that didn’t lessen the sting.

“You know, you may have fooled The-Boy-Who-Lived, but you won’t ever fool me. I know who you really are. You haven’t changed. You don’t deserve him.”

“Hooper, _please_ , I am finishing up a case report,” he repeated. He flicked his wand lazily, and his door slammed shut. He covered his eyes, body shaking. He knew he didn’t deserve Harry, but Harry was certain that Draco Malfoy had changed, and he never failed to tell Draco that every time Malfoy had brought the past up.

 

The Chosen One had spoken at his trial, and the kind words the raven had said about him was what certainly bought him a lesser punishment. And three years later, Draco had joined the Auror office—not without months of psyche evaluations and training—and had moved in with Harry Potter who insisted that they were a couple. Not that Draco denied it. After his trials, Potter took him out for a drink before his six months of house arrest started, and they had shared a kiss after their brains were muddled with Firewhiskey. Neither one minded, and Harry had promised to come by Draco’s flat at least once a week.

Their simple shared kiss had slowly evolved into something more. During those six months, Draco had found himself being wooed with simple dinner dates in his living room and movies on a Muggle device called a laptop. Draco was fascinated with it, and Harry had teased him for hours later after their first movie.

After his house arrest, Harry made Draco move in with him in a flat outside of London. He insisted that Draco live somewhere new, that he should be tired of the same scenery after six months. He did so without argument.

 

But three years after that, and he still found it hard to believe that Potter tolerated him for so long. He dropped his wand back onto the desk and picked his eagle-feather quill. With one last look at the door, he finished filling out the report. As he left, he felt the stares and heard whispers follow him out of the Ministry offices. All he wanted was to curl up next to Harry in their bed and sleep. But when he got home, Harry must have still been in his office.

Harry gave up his drive to be an Auror after he had spoken at Draco’s trial. Instead, Draco talked Harry into becoming a broomstick craftsman. He had complimented Potter more than once on his clever hands. But recently, with the new school Quiddich season approaching, Harry was staying longer in the workshop. He stripped down and curled up in the cold bed alone. He heard Hooper’s voice in his head, _You don’t deserve him_.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

“Draco, baby,” Harry’s hands shook him awake. “You’ve been sleeping for hours. Wake up…” Soft lips pressed against his, and calloused hands travelled down his stomach. One wrapped around Draco’s hardening cock and stroked slowly. “Wake up, my sleeping dragon,” he whispered against his lips.

Draco groaned and lifted his hips, bucking into the hand. His eyes opened, and once again he met Harry’s emerald gaze. He let out a low groan as Harry increased the pace on his cock. He closed his eyes again, unable to hold the lustful look that Harry sent his way.

“I need to give you your birthday sex before the day is over.” Strong legs straddled Draco’s waist, and a blunt object nudged the blonde’s hip. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

“Did you already prepare yourself?” Draco rasped, eyes opening. His fingers found Harry’s entrance which was full with a black and green anal plug. “What is this?” he purred, and he twisted the base.

Harry let out a soft cry before answering in a wavering voice, “One of your presents.” He never let up the pace on Draco’s cock, and he leaned forward, pressing their erections together. Though his cock was shorter than Draco’s, it thickened at the base. “I don’t want our time shorted with the unnecessary foreplay.” His breath hitched as Draco quickly wrapped his hand around Harry’s arousal.

“What is this then?” He stroked him thrice before sitting up, knocking Harry’s hand away. All thoughts of last night were gone as he claimed The Chosen One’s lips. His other hand pulled the plug back and pushed it back inside. “Come on, Harry, you just want me to play with you…”

“Fuck me, Draco… Please.” Harry ground his hips back as Draco twisted the plug inside him. “I need your cock!”

Draco pulled out the anal plug. “Then take it, Harry. You have me successfully pinned under you.” He grit his teeth as Harry positioned himself then his cock, and he let out a groan as Harry finally _finally_ sunk down onto his length. “Baby, you look so good with me inside you.”

“Shut up, Draco, or I’ll be done before we even start…” Harry experimentally rocked his hips. “Oooh, yes… You’re so long…So deep inside me…”

“You’re telling me to shut up?” Draco bucked his hips up, pleased at the gasp of air Harry released.

Harry circled his hips, stopping at an angle that made a shudder run through his body. He started moving his hips, moaning at the slide of Draco’s long cock against his nerves and muscles.

Draco was always astounded at the look on Harry’s face when they fucked. His tanned cheeks were flushed with heat, his body shined with sweat, and his normally messy hair stuck up in new places. He reached up and tangled his hand in that messy hair and brought him down in a biting kiss.

Harry’s hips sped up, his climax drawing closer. He let Draco’s tongue bring him closer, the wet muscle teasing his own. His now-ignored erection dripped with precum, the head a bright red from his oncoming climax. He turned his head away, moaning loudly with every thrust to his prostate. “Draco! I’m so…so close!”

“Me too, Harry… Keep moving.” Draco’s hips moved up into Harry’s downward thrusts. His heart pounded in his ears as the look on Harry’s face forced heat into his face, his pale skin flushing.

Harry’s hips quickened into a frantic, erratic movement. He whispered Draco’s name, his breath short as he took a hold of his erection and stroked rapidly. “I’m…Shit!” His body stiffened for a second before his hips jerked from his orgasm.

Draco picked up Harry’s dropped pace, desperate to follow Harry into a climax. His wish was granted after a few weak rocks from Harry’s hips. He gripped Harry’s sides as his seed pulsed into Harry’s body, leaving Draco exhausted.

“I love you, Draco,” the raven muttered, kissing Draco’s pulsing pressure point. “Happy birthday.”

After a weak smile, the blonde responded with, “And I love you, Harry…” He stroked his messy black hair. “We should clean up.”

“Gives me an opportunity to give you your other present…” Harry muttered, getting up with a groan. He winced as a loud screech echoed through their house. “Shit…”

“What was that?”

“Your present?” He smiled weakly.

“An owl?” Draco chuckled. “We already have one, and I thought you liked Isis. I picked her out special.” He did. The snowy owl had not meant to be a replacement for Hedwig, but when Draco saw the look on Harry’s face, he knew that he had picked correctly.

“No, Isis brought your present. I’ll go get it. Just get the shower ready.” Harry looked nervous as he left their room.

Draco frowned but went into the bathroom anyway. By the time steam clouded the mirrors, Harry stood in the doorway to their bathroom. “There you are.”

Harry beckoned him out. “This won’t take long, Draco.” He backed out with Draco’s hand in his. “I’ve been…working on this for a while.” He took a long box off the bed and held it out to him.

“Working on…?” He took the box and set it back on the bed, unwrapping it carefully. The logo of Harry’s broom shop, The Flying Lion, was emblazed on the lid of the box. “Harry?” He opened the box and gasped. He touched the handle of a beautiful black broom which seemed to vibrate under his touch. Green writing shone at the top of the broom, ‘The Dragonwing.’ “A new broom? You’ve been working on this for months!”

“All for you, Draco. I’m not selling this model. This is all yours—” Harry yelped as Draco pulled him into a searing kiss.

“We’re definitely trying this out tomorrow, you daft fool,” he said with a bright smile.


	2. Let's Start Over, Shall We?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, Harry would love if Draco would just listen to him for once! So he makes Draco remember that, though he had been a tosser, Draco's mistakes brought them together, and for that Harry would always be grateful. So, Harry makes Draco look back, back to the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I am so pleased with the response I got. I haven't posted fanfic in a while, nor have I written in a bit, so to hear that people are very interested pleased me.  
> But I was inspired by The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, as it was playing in the background as I wrote. I wrote through the night to get this to you all. I didn't want to keep anyone waiting any longer!  
> So without further ado, here's Chapter Two!

Draco laughed as he and Harry touched down from their flight on their balcony. The broom that he was given yesterday seemed to respond to merely a thought, and, even though Harry couldn’t get the Quiddich balls for their flight, he was certain that he would have beaten Harry.

“So it meets your approval?” Harry asked from his side.

“Oh yeah, love. It responded fabulously, but I had no doubts since you were the one to make it.” Draco kissed Harry’s temple and rolled down his sleeves. He saw Harry’s eyes follow his hand down, pausing on his Dark Mark. “Harry—”

“No, Draco, don’t say it. It might have been a negative sign in years past, but now it is just a reminder of how we officially met. If you understand?”

The blonde grimaced. “I do not, Harry. And I don’t want to sully the good mood with the memory of this…thing.” He sighed and pushed back his hair which hung loosely around his face before he made his way into their flat.

“Draco!” Harry shut their sliding glass door behind them and grabbed Draco’s arm before he could move any more. He threw him onto the chair and straddled his legs. “But that memory shouldn’t be a bad one.” He pressed their foreheads together. “And if you can’t see it, then I’ll show you what I think.” Harry muttered a spell and held Draco down with a gentle press to his wrists.

Draco slowly relaxed as Harry rubbed circles into his wrists with calloused thumbs. He welcomed the probing of Harry’s memories combine with his own. Though Harry wouldn’t get away that easily. He would make Harry understand as well. Relationships were about sharing, were they not?

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Draco could not believe that his father was sent to Azkaban for life. He could feel the sweat beading on the back of his neck as he was escorted into the court room. He kept his eyes down towards his feet, watching the tips of his black dress shoes as he walked towards the chair in the centre of the room. At least the chill of the dementors was absent from the room now that they had a real Minister for Magic in charge.

Draco never thought he would be more relieved to have a Muggle-lover in charge, but he realized that he had changed since the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry Potter—that goddamn Potter—had changed everything, and he could feel his opinions, those guided by his father, slowly bending as he thought of the past encounters that he had with the Golden Trio during their time at Hogwarts. He felt the push on his chest, and he sat down, looking up at the Wizengamot as his wrists were cuffed to the chair. He said his piece when they asked him and grimaced when the guard pulled back his sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark. Draco had tried every Glamour he knew to get rid of it, but it would not disappear.

“Excuse me. Can Draco Malfoy’s witness please speak now?”

Draco knew that voice, and needless to say, having Harry Potter speak for him came as a bit of a shock. He tried not to show his surprise as he looked up to see the familiar mop of black hair appear above the stand. He watched as Potter’s lips moved, but his ears were buzzing with the excited beat of his heart. Maybe he would get a decent sentence: only two months in Azkaban instead of a life sentence with his father. Potter had to have been up there for a while before he sat down at the bench again. He was released from the shackles and removed from the room to await their verdict. He wished he had paid attention to what Potter had said. He felt a wave of irritation as well, though foolish as it was. What gave Potter the wherewithal to speak as his witness? What made Potter think that he needed his help?

But Draco knew that he would have been at the Wizengamot’s mercy if Potter had not come. He stared at the black walls, leg twitching from his nerves. He jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Draco, you look awful.”

“Merlin, Potter… You would if you were waiting to hear what your fate would be.” He looked at the wizard guard who was eyeing them suspiciously. “I would rather not be thrown in Azkaban if I could help it.”

Harry squeezed his shoulder with a warm hand. “Draco, I’ll be here for you.”

“Potter.” Draco clenched his hand into a fist before brushing Harry’s hand off. “Since when have you been so friendly to me?”

“Ever since you saved my life. Twice.” Harry stepped back and let the guard usher him away.

Draco watched him leave then sighed. The ever righteous Potter was trying to save him, and Draco felt grateful for it. He was _grateful_. And because Malfoy had standards, he would be obligated to repay Potter whenever and however he could. So depending on how he was sentenced, Draco would then find anything to get his debt repaid.

The guard pulled him to his feet and pushed him back into the court room where Draco was once again cuffed to the chair.

Draco stared the judge in the eye and felt Harry’s eyes on him as well. He lifted his chin and waited for the judge to open his mouth.

“After much thought and discussion, we of the Wizengamot have agreed to sentence you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, to six months of house arrest. You will be monitored weekly by Mr Ronald Weasley at your own flat. Before you leave, a temporary Trace will be placed upon your person and will alert the Ministry if you walk more than 100 metres outside of the perimeter of your own residence.”

Draco felt his stomach twist in dread. The Weasley would be looking after him?! He grit his teeth and deigned to silence and a nod. His shackles were removed, and he stood, rubbing his wrists. He let the guard wave his wand around him, only feeling a slight bit nervous at the threatening tingle of magic around his ankles, almost as if there were another set of cuffs placed there. He fought the urge to swipe at the spidery tendrils that wound up his body until the feeling disappated.

“Midnight tonight, you will be confined to your flat for six months until the sixteenth of December. Use your last day wisely.”

Draco nodded again and left the court room before the guard could have the chance to escort him out like a child. He hurried to the elevator, and the moment he stepped inside, Harry was inside with him. They both jerked forward as the elevator took them back towards the lobby.

“Hey, Draco—”

“Since when did you start calling me _Draco_ , Potter?”

Emerald eyes locked innocently with the stormy grey. “Well… I figured since we are adults now. I mean… As adult as an eighteen-year-old can get.” Harry chuckled, but his mirth was cut short by a glare from Draco.

“Nineteen, Potter. I am nineteen. And you will be soon as well, so you are as adult as I, though perhaps not as mature.” His grip on the rope above tightened.

“Well, Draco, I am trying to be mature, and it is becoming more difficult with your attitude.” Harry squinted at him through smudged glasses.

Draco rolled his eyes and took the dorky frames off of Harry’s face. “Clean them, you idiot.”

The look of surprise was not cleverly hidden, and Potter switched the hand on the rope so he could clean his glasses as Draco held them between delicate fingers. “…I was just wondering if you would fancy coming out to drink with me tonight. Considering it is your last free day and all.”

Draco would have loved to deny him, but the sentiment made him feel rather warm in his chest. “…Thank you for the offer. I would rather enjoy a night out with someone before I am to be confined.” Harry’s smile burned behind his eyes as they both left the Ministry of Magic together, and Draco couldn’t help the smile that forced its way onto his face. Spending the remaining hours with a familiar face was more than he could have asked for, and to be let off with just house arrest for half a year was even more so.

Harry took him to a Wizard pub a few blocks from Draco’s apartment, and the second the Muggle clock outside struck four in the afternoon, they began drinking in the Shady Niffler. After both of their third mugs of Firewhiskey, their strained conversation became freer, and they began talking about their lives outside of their Eighth Year.

“Draco, you weren’t back at Hogwarts. At least, I didn’t see you. I was always looking for you, you know…” Harry muttered as he leant over his fourth mug.

“Yeah, I know. And I was there, but the Ministry kept an eye on me, so I was in only a few classes. We were in Defense against the Dark Arts together, though. You just didn’t notice me.”

“But I _looked_ for you…” Harry sighed. “Draco, I always looked for you, but I never knew until last week why I did…”

“Harry, you need to speak up.” _‘Harry?’ When was he ‘Harry?’_ Draco rubbed his eyes, grimacing.

“Draco, I think I always sort of…fancied you.” Harry’s cheeks burned almost as red as a Gryffindor flag.

“You’re knackered…barking mad. We should leave.” Draco made to stand up but was stopped when Harry’s hand latched onto his forearm, thumb pressing into the covered Dark Mark.

“I don’t…” He surged up out of his seat and kissed Draco rather sloppily.

The blonde staggered back with the force, but their lips never parted. His fuzzy brain registered the rather pleasant feeling of the raven’s lips upon his. He placed his hand on Harry’s chest and pushed him back. “Alright, Harry. I still have a few more hours. It’s only six. We can talk back at my place…” He pried Harry’s hand off of his arm.

“Or we can just kiss…” Harry muttered, cheeks still flushed.

“No. We’re going to talk until you’ve sobered up. Then we’ll see if you still want to ‘just kiss.’ Is that agreeable?” Draco was surprised he was still thinking straight.

Harry nodded, his messy hair flopping with the force of it.

Once Draco got Harry off of his arm and into a chair in his living room, he forced a glass of water into his hand. “OK, the loo is down the hall on the right. I’ll get you something to soak up the alcohol.”

“Draco, I’m not that drunk. Sit with me. We do need to talk…”

He looked down at Harry who had tucked his feet underneath him on the chair. “…Shoes off. What?”

“I am not so inebriated that I would make up my feelings for you, you prat.” Harry folded his arms. “It might have started Fifth Year, but I realised it more when we…attacked each other in our Sixth Year.”

“Yeah, I still have a nasty scar.” Draco shot Harry a glare before he sat down in the couch across the coffee table from Harry. “Where did you learn that spell?”

“I had one of Professor Snape’s books from when he was a student.” Harry smiled small. “He created it. Anyway, I thought all about this during the past month after I had decided that you needed a witness at your trial. I knew I didn’t want you to be put into Azkaban!” He slapped the arm of the chair pointedly.  “I keep digressing… So, I thought about you a lot, you know? I needed to come up with a decent story that was entirely true to keep you out of that place. And I remembered that moment, and how horrified I was that I could have killed you. Sure, I hated you, but I never wanted to kill you. In fact, after that moment, I wanted to give my own life in place of yours if I had to and could.

“I asked around, mainly Mr and Mrs Weasley. They’ve been together for a while, you know? And they disagree a lot, but they still have to love each other with all the shit they’ve been through. So I asked them what they thought love felt like. And from what they told me, I realised that… Merlin, Draco, I could be in love with you!” Harry flopped over on the chair, hanging his legs over an arm of the chair. “But I wouldn’t jump to that far of a conclusion right now. That part might just be the alcohol talking. But I knew, a week ago, that I would have liked to have a chance to have a relationship with you. And I—”

“Harry,” Draco intercepted, “while it may have been obvious that I am into blokes—”

“Not to me!” Harry shot up in his seat. “I was just about to make all these excuses as to why you should try dating me, a guy, but now that I know that, I won’t have to!” He smiled, relieved.

Draco knew he didn’t need to be convinced. Third Year was his enlightening year. The ripe age of thirteen, and Draco had figured out that his hatred of Harry-bleeding-perfect-Potter had also dared to branch out into the unknown emotions of “crushing.” A Malfoy feeling something for a half-blood; it was unheard of. But he was, and Draco didn’t want to let it go, even through his Sixth Year. That year, he needed everything he could to keep him feeling remotely human. But that year, he also knew that every chance he had to change for Potter had failed. Until now! This was his chance, and hell, Potter was the one to initiate. Draco smirked and leaned forward, resting his chin on clasped hands. “No, do enlighten me. Why should I date _you_ , Harry Potter? I am a criminal.”

“Well… I… Fuck, Draco, I’ll prove it to you!” Harry downed his glass of water. “I’ll visit you every week! I’ll come when Ron checks on you, and I’ll stay right until you have dinner. I’ll leave before then, but I’ll prove my worth to you.”

_Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry… It will be me proving my worth to you._ “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed it! I hope it's still as good as the first chapter! I will be continuing this when I can get a hold of a computer until my own is fixed.


	3. Dinner?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry introduces Draco to the magic of the Muggles. Movie magic, that is! And Draco cooks. Not much else happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, everyone! I’m going to try to update this once a week, hopefully on Fridays or something like that. But I’ll try to make it around the same day. I also might have forgotten to mention that this is un-beta-ed, and I’m so feckin’ American that proper English and not-American phrases/words are lost on me. If you’re interested, send me a message or something. Anyway, on with the story!

“Potter, what the hell is that?” Draco stared at a...thing that Harry had placed on the coffee table in front of him. He squinted at it as Harry then opened it like a book. There were moving pictures in the black frame.

“It’s a laptop. A Muggle device. We will be watching a movie, another Muggle thing. You’ll understand soon.” Harry sat on the couch next to Draco as the moving pictures started up and sound poured from the...laptop.

Draco glanced over at Harry before he turned his attention to the movie. “How does this work?”

Harry shrugged. “I just like to think of it as Muggle magic. I never really cared to find out how the technology worked, and I never really had technology of my own to really think about it until...well, now, since you brought it up.”

Draco let out a huff and watched as a few words moved across the screen. “I can’t hear it,” he muttered.

Harry leaned over and turned up the volume before he leaned back.

Draco stayed silent for the rest of the movie. The plot was something rather menial, he decided. Two Muggles were in love, but some other Muggle with an imaginary friend who personified his heart wanted to screw them over. In the end he won, and Draco thought that it all was not very fair. But he was entertained, and Potter seemed pleased with the results of his idea. Draco decided then that he would let Potter continue to keep him company during the long, long imprisonment that he was to suffer.

So the next week, Harry brought another movie, but “Not like the one you brought last week, I hope” as Draco had whined as soon as Harry opened the laptop. Draco understood the one he had brought this time more than the last one. At least it had magical creatures; but it was in Spanish, and Draco had a difficult time following the whole story. But at the end, Draco had a lot more enjoyment from that movie. It had felt more real.

“Muggles call that sort of movie a fantasy. Because, to them obviously, magic doesn’t exist.” Harry closed the laptop and made to get up.

“Obviously… Stay for dinner.” Draco got up and went to the fridge, pulling out meat and a vegetable.

“No, I couldn’t…”

“Potter, stay, or I will be wallowing in loneliness,” he deadpanned, looking less amused by the second.

Harry slowly sat back down and watched Draco cook.

The blonde relaxed when he realised that Harry was staying, and he continued to cook. “You can sit at the table you know…” he muttered, turning around with a hot pan in his hand. He tipped the food onto a plate. “I am not feeding you out there.” He filled another and placed both at a small table.

Harry got up at the smell of the food and joined him at the table. “So how far did they say you could walk away?”

“Not at all. No unnecessary magic either. It’s great that they didn’t kill me and all, but they will eventually succeed. I may perish from the boredom here.” Draco slid into a seat and slouched on the tabletop, waiting for Harry to start eating before he joined him. Silence fell between them as they ate, and Draco felt a gnawing in his stomach that he knew was not from his cooking.

“Well then I should come over more often, don’t you agree?” Harry said after he had cleaned his plate.

“I do agree. Every other day would be better. It would at least keep me from having to reread any books I may own.”

“Shit, I might run out of movies then.” Harry laughed.

“Then we will find other ways to occupy ourselves.” Draco stood and gathered the plates to wash them.

Harry touched Draco’s wrist and took the plates back. “I’ll wash up. As a thank you for cooking for me.”

Draco fought the urge to scratch his now-tingling wrist. “Oh, of course…” he muttered. “But I’ll put them away. You obviously don’t know where anything goes.”

“Shut up, Malfoy! I could learn!”

“No, you would just get my cabinets messy, and then I would have to clean up after you. Oh, on second thought, go ahead. It would give me something to do.”

Harry pouted and turned his back to Draco. “Whatever…” he grumbled, putting the dirty dishes into the sink. He turned on the water and started washing the dirt off the plates. If Draco had to do it the Muggle way, then Harry thought that it was only fair if he did it that way as well. Every other day, with some other implications that this...whatever this was would go somewhere? Harry would gladly come back every day if that meant building a relationship with Draco. He wondered what he would bring in two days. Maybe some Muggle book that Draco obviously wouldn’t have. He could do with some more colour too, so flowers maybe… Harry stared at the pile of cleaned dishes. He wished he hadn’t goaded Draco into letting him put them away as well. He jumped when he felt a gentle hand at his back.

"I'll help, dumbass," Draco said, grabbing a few pots. "It would take you forever to find where all this goes, and I'd rather not wait that long.

Harry stuck out his tongue in a childish attempt to get Draco to shut up, but he only got a hip-check as a response. He stumbled and smacked Draco's arm lightly with a plate before he opened a cabinet to put it away.

"I have wine in the fridge if you are interested." Draco put the last pot away.

"Maybe later." Harry leaned on the counter next to the blonde.

"Later? How long are you planning on staying?" He sighed when Harry responded with a shrug. "Well I suppose, that's fine..." he muttered. Draco took Harry by the hand. "Fuck this, come on." He pulled him back to the couch. "I suppose we need to entertain each other, hm? Then we'll have some wine."

"Wine-ing and dining me?" Harry teased, letting Draco lead him away. "You know, if you just wanted to kiss me, you didn't need to go through all this trouble." Draco finally got his chance to shut him up. This visiting idea was turning out to be a brilliant one. Harry made a mental note to thank Ron for letting him come with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so hard to write. I kept having to struggle through writer’s block to get it finished, so sorry if it's boring and short. But I had to do it for all of you. I didn't want you all to think that I abandoned this story, because I didn't. I'm so determined to finish this.  
> By the way, the movies described in this chapter are all real. Maybe if someone guesses them correctly, I'll let them decide how the next sex scene is or they can have a bit of input on the next chapter. Something fun like that.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this. Again, let me know what you think. I have a plot in mind, but I don't want to force it if no one likes it.


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